My love she hides a cruel disease
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It¡¯s the bullet in her mind
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It¡¯s the plan between her knees
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It¡¯s the colour of the night
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It¡¯s the number of the beast
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My love she dreams of Tel Aviv
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She¡¯s got nails in her hands
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And nails in her feet
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She¡¯s not from the holy land
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But she thinks she used to be
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Tell when was hell so beautiful
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Tell me with youre words that disagree
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Tell me with your reason carved like granite
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Tell me so that I can be free
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My love she¡¯s like a cruel disease
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She¡¯s the bullet in my mind
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She¡¯s got a plan between her knees
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She¡¯s the colour of the night
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She stirs the beast in me
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Colour Of The Night
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| Suede |
